


the road that speaks your name

by somestrangecircus



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-01
Updated: 2011-05-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 15:20:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 360
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/444603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somestrangecircus/pseuds/somestrangecircus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>simplicity and complication waver between each other until the lines blur to nothing. -homura.-</p>
            </blockquote>





	the road that speaks your name

All this time, all these days replayed, and Homura still isn't used to the idea that she will eventually die.

She thought she was used to it. She thought she had the right to go around lecturing the other girls time and again about their eventual fate. But in the end, really, she had no idea.

Even now that they're fighting Demons instead of Witches, even now that their Soul Gems are fated to disappear without a trace, she still can't quite wrap her head around the concept.

She doesn't know how to feel about it, either. Transforming into a Witch certainly isn't a good thing, but neither is vanishing. Destroying the world isn't something to be celebrated, nor is simply leaving everything behind. Fighting to protect the city is supposedly a good thing, but it leads to pain eventually, doesn't it?

So would she take it back, if she could?

It's a question she's never once been able to answer.

She thinks about these things too much, she decides. It shouldn't be this complicated. She is a Puella Magi and she fights Demons to protect people and one day she is going to die. And when she does, she will get one last glance of Madoka, because that was the way she made it, and then her Soul Gem will quietly evaporate and she will go right along with it, and that will be that. Thoughts and feelings and complications shouldn't be in the equation.

And yet all it takes is one look in the mirror, one moment of eyes being drawn to red hair ribbons, one flash of a long-lost smile, and it all just goes out the window again.

She feels like she's rambling, sometimes. Her mind is rambling, anyway. She feels like these thoughts are spinning around, back and forth, over and over, no matter what she tries to do to force them out. She feels like moving is the only way out.

So she walks on, down her path, with a voice in her heart and a hand reaching up to trace the last remaining reminder of a past that taught her entirely too much.


End file.
